


Ciri's Lesson in Hospitality.

by Umbrelloid



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Monsters, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 14:12:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15074858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umbrelloid/pseuds/Umbrelloid
Summary: A young Witcher on the run stumbles into an abandoned village, where she meets a bunch of kindly people who give her supplies and send her on her-You didn't actually believe that, did you?





	Ciri's Lesson in Hospitality.

Ciri trudged among the reeds, keeping her head down. Her boots slurped and splorched through the much, which rose almost to her knees in places, but she shouldered on as the night grew colder – accented, after a time, by a light rain, because of course it was. Even her Witcher resistance to the cold was little comfort: even she could get frosty, her body temperature slowly but surely dropping hour by hour.

She had to find shelter.

The soldiers pursuing her were mounted, and could probably see a long distance across the Velen plains. The night was her friend in that regard: as the shadows gathered, her eyes adjusted, and she moved more confidently through the darkling damp. Not too confidently, though – she’d lost her sword back in Crow’s Perch, and now she had only her Signs to protect her.

She blew a steamed breath as she emerged from the reeds beside a small, silent village. The guts were ramshackle and very old – abandoned-looking. A warning signal crossed her mind. Places like this usually had a reason they were abandoned, and were favourite haunts for all kinds of spectres and spirits. Some even drew weary travellers toward them…except Ciri’s mind was unclouded. She had stumbled upon this place by chance.

Peeling herself out of the swamp, Ciri kicked the muck from her boots and staggered into the village, hugging herself for warmth. Geralt would have mocked her for dropping her guard like this, but she had no choice. Velen was one huge battlefield, a No-Man’s-Land where scavengers picked across the ruins, stealing warmth and resources from massive swathes of land. If she passed this village by, she might not find another one for days.

As she approached a house at the centre of the village, she heard something: a faint, equine whickering. She glanced toward a field at the village edge, and saw five horses grazing there. They didn’t look starved. So, either this village was inhabited, or there were raiders around.

Or soldiers.

Ciri considered fleeing once again, but then she clenched her teeth and steeled her resolve. She placed a hand on the door handle, prepared a Sign with the other, and pushed the door open!

The smell of roast pork hit Ciri’s hyper-sensitive nostrils like a heavenly wave, stunning her. A small fire burned in the hearth. At the table sat a shirtless man, bull-shouldered and moustachioed, with coarse black hair and a patch over his left eye. He was polishing his weapon – a vicious-looking broadsword – but stopped when he saw Ciri, his blade tilting toward the floor…

The other inhabitant was of familiar Velen stock: round-featured, with a bowl cut and small, observant eyes. He was finishing the last scraps of stew in his bowl. At the sight of the lone Witcher in his doorway, he lifted the bowl to his lips and slurped down the rest, then stood.

“Gentlemen,” Ciri said weakly, dropping her Sign. She didn’t want to look threatening. “I didn’t know this place was inhabited.”

The bowl-cut looked at his warriorlike partner, and then back at Ciri. He advanced on her – not angrily, but with an air of suspicion. “You a vampire?”

“No!” Ciri cried. “Why do you think–?” And she realised she was standing outside the threshold, waiting to be invited in. Her emerald eyes and ethereal beauty only added to the effect – especially since she’d come at night. She gulped and stepped inside. “See?”

The bowl-cut nodded. “I see.” And he kicked the door shut behind her. The slam made her flinch. “So what are you, then? Either way, you came to the wrong house. Me and Sven, we’re monster hunters.”

Ciri rubbed her wrists. The fire looked so attractive to her, she started to edge toward it… “I’m just a traveller. Human. I…dye my hair, and…er…”

“Hair’s too wet to be dyed,” rumbled Sven. “Search her, Gil.”

Gil nodded. Before Ciri could react, the bowl-cut was patting her down. Her first instinct was to fight him off, but she held firm, knowing this was the only way to be accepted. Even when Gil’s hands grazed, and lingered, over the swells of her breasts, she just gasped and didn’t say a thing.

“Unarmed,” said Gil. “Wait…she’s the one those bastard soldiers were lookin’ for! Melitele’s tits, it really is her.” He grasped Ciri’s shoulders in powerful hands, making her face him. His eyes were wide with interest. “What did you steal, anyway, to get them looking for you like this?”

Ciri coughed. What could she say? The army wasn’t the only group after her. “I…stole some food.”

“Yeah? And I stole Nilfgaard’s crown jewels! Hah!” Gil turned to Sven, who placed his sword on the table and yawned into a fist. “What d’you think?”

The big warrior shrugged. “She’s a fair one.”

Ciri edged toward the hearth until its heat eased the frost from her bones. She sighed. “Look. If you harbour me for a few days, I’ll be grateful. You said you’re monster hunters, right? I know a thing or two about that…”

Gil snorted. “I don’t like thieves. I say we turn her in, fill our coinpurses. We’re in sore need.”

Sven, a stoic Skellige man, grunted in that noncommittal way Ciri was so familiar with. She’d spent a good part of her youth among the huge warriors of the frozen isles, and knew their ways. Sven stood and stretched, approaching her. “You want to hand this pretty thing over to those cunts? No. Like she said, she’ll be grateful.”

Ciri had experience with this, too. It wasn’t unusual for men to offer her shelter, expecting something in return. When that happened, she kept stalling until their patience ran thin – and then vanished into the night, off to the next stop on her journey. It helped to play along at first, though. She trusted the Skelliger man not to rush things – their warriors had a code. “Yeah,” she breathed, meeting Sven’s eyes before turning back to Gil. “Grateful. I could really use some food first, though–”

Sven put his hand on her waist. “You’re asking us to risk a lot. We have no money – we’re nothing to the army, the two of us. Looking at you, I can tell you don’t have any, either. But, for a small price of 500 crowns, we’ll do our best to help you.”

Ciri felt pinpricks all across her body, tingling with nerves. Couldn’t they see she’d just trudged out of the swamp, starving and penniless? “I…really have nothing,” she said gently. “Not a coin. However…I can help around the house, cleaning and cooking…killing monsters…” She folded her arms behind her back and smiled cheerfully.

“Killing..?” Gil asked sceptically. “You’re tiny. What can you do?”

“I come from a…family…of hunters. My father’s one of the best in the world. Actually, I’m from Skellige, too.”

Sven’s massive brow creased. “Which clan?”

“Clan…Morhen.”

Gil snorted. “Leave it – you can’t fool us. You don’t even have a weapon.”

So put a weapon in my hands, Ciri thought in a moment of annoyance. Outwardly, she was still the chipper, smiling guest.

Gil’s eyes swam out of focus. When he reached a decision, he sighed and patted his flanks. “We can make a lot, giving her up…”

“We both know what’ll happen to such a pretty thief when those soldiers get their hands on her.” Sven glowered at Ciri. “You know what that is, don’t you?”

Ciri’s hands fidgeted at her sides, frustrated: she was being backed into a corner. “Before I escaped, they made it very clear… They said a lot of fucking and beating was in their plans, so…yes, I get the idea.”

“We can’t let that happen,” Sven said dramatically, and swung a big arm around her back. His hand clamped firmly around her ass as he dragged her deeper into the house. “Gil, we can’t stand by as such terrible things happen to this pretty lamb! I’ve heard stories about army dungeons…”

Gil rolled his eyes, hesitant. “I’m still against keeping her. Those soldiers will put the whole area under watch: we won’t be able to move in daylight. Besides…you know she didn’t just steal food, right? They wouldn’t be this determined…” He wiped his face with a muscled forearm. “Or maybe it’s cos of her body. No-one’ll complain if they gangfuck a thief half to death. Imagine bein’ a soldier, not allowed to fuck the local women, and suddenly this beauty comes along… Would you want to let that go? If the soldiers find out we have her, they’ll string us up by our entrails.”

Ciri clenched her teeth. She had to tell them, or else she wouldn’t stand a chance. At last, she exhaled, crossed her arms under her breasts, and said, “I undertook Witcher training at Kaer Morhen. Wolf School. I can pay you triple your asking price – 1,500 crowns – by doing a few jobs after the soldiers are gone. You can claim all the glory, become heroes of Velen.” She stumbled over a few words, mostly owing to the warrior’s hand fondling her ass through her tight pants, but she kept a stoic expression. “What do you say?”

Sven turned her to face him, still holding her hips as he glared into her fierce green eyes. “Of course – a Witcher,” he said mockingly.

“Can’t trick us!” Gil snarled. “Everyone knows Witchers have three heads and a serpent’s tail.”

“No, no, I believe her,” Sven rumbled. “Hear that, sweet thing? Gil doesn’t trust you. I think you need to make it worth his while, too.” Ciri could smell the booze on his breath, and as he spoke, his eyes trailed down her body.

So far, so predictable – although something made her chest clench up in fear. So far, she’d evaded harm from men such as Gil and Sven, but maybe her luck couldn’t last forever. The broadsword on the table seemed to stare at her, and Sven was unusually big for a man… Even worse, he was a clansman of Skellige, the kind of man who wrestles bears and slays giants for fun.

And then it hit her. Soldiers were roaming the countryside, searching for her. She was hungry and thirsty, with no way of getting food except appeasing these men. They were too clever to let her stall.

She tried to smile innocently. “What do you have in mind..?”

Sven smiled at her. He nodded at Gil.

Yeah. She had to play this smart, if she wanted to avoid–

-

Gil’s filthy, unwashed dick split her open like a ripe fruit, and his weight crashed down on her stomach and breasts. “NnnNNO!” Ciri screamed as she was speared on his brutal cock, crushed beneath the much bigger man as he rocked back and forth, using the bed’s springiness to fuck her without wasting energy. His tongue dragged against her ear, sucking on strands of her white hair, drooling gross slime down her skin as she shuddered, twisted, and groaned beneath him. “No, no– Hnnng–!” she whined, but then her cries were silenced by his mouth. Her legs were spread painfully by his thrusting hips, her toes curling with each heavy thrust.

“Haven’t fucked…in months!” Gil growled into the forced kiss. “You’re gonna take…ghh, all my pent-up seed. Even the sloppiest whore…nnghf…never got it as bad as you!”

He doubled his efforts, ramping up the pace until the ‘CLOP-CLOP-CLOP’ of his ballsack against her asscheeks drowned out her cries. Soon, an ooze of precum leaked from around her stretched, clenching cunt, dribbling over her winking asshole and draining into the bedsheets. Ciri howled in pain, but Gil only clasped her chin in a hand, squeezing her cheeks between his fingers until her lips pouted in a lewd smoochy-face for him to suck on. She tried to yell, “Stoooop!”, but then her was drinking the breath from her lungs. Soon he was groaning, his eyes rolling back in a disgusting look of bliss as he slammed a final few thrusts into her: CLOP! …CLOP…CLOP…spluuuurch! Ciri actually heard his vile cum explode into her womb, a disgusting sewage-tide of pent-up jizz. She clenched her teeth and growled her anguish, squirming out of sheer revulsion – but Gil wasn’t done. When he wrenched his bucking dick out of her stretched pussy, he didn’t retreat - but slapped his meat down on her stomach and jerked it hard, firing the last few shots onto her naked boobs!

“Fuckmeat, that’s what you are,” he panted, squeezing her face so she looked into his eyes. “Understand? I wanna hear you say it.” His gaze glittered, evil lights beneath folded brows. Ciri gagged and tried to rasp something. The moment she did, Gil’s hands clamped down on her thighs, he drew back his hips – and his dick dived back into her pussy! Before she knew it, he hiked her up on her side, her left leg lifted against his chest and shoulder, her right one between his knees as he hammered her with his spongy, semi-hard dick! “Actually,” he grunted beside her ear, as she stared in blank astonishment at him, “I can keep goin’. Get ready..!

And so it started again. Ciri whined. The brief respite as he cummed on her tits had made her realise how sore her pussy was, roughfucked beyond its usual dimensions until it felt like a burning pit at the centre of her being – and this bastard was slamming it again with his big, stupid dick! Her tits bounced in time with his ungainly thrusts, which must have looked attractive to the Velen thug, as he beat his blunt palms against them like he was playing a gong! Each slap sent stars spraying across Ciri’s eyes. She wept, but Gil wouldn’t let her sorrow cloud her vision: he yanked on her hair whenever she seemed to grow numb, until she was screaming and groaning again! His seed painted her thighs, and his plunging cockhead stoppered her jizz-pumped womb. The overflow spurted out around his veiny dick, forming thick ropes between her legs and making a puddle on the bedsheets!

Faster, faster – until, at last, he roared and came again. Ciri crooned a low, sorrowful note as his second load hit her womb, saturating it entirely with his foul spunk. Gil swayed against and into her, pawing at her heaving boobs and spanking her round ass - CLAP! Slowly, as his energy drained out of him, his weight pressed down harder upon her. The leg currently braced against his chest was forced to stretch, the knee touching her shoulder at last. She was thankful for her flexibility – but as Gil’s lips mashed over her eye and started to suckle grossly, she cursed it. Now the brute knew he could do whatever he liked without breaking her.

“Imagine if the soldiers got to you,” Gil said in a low voice. “You’d be begging to be fucked as gentle as I am. They’d give you to their horses and dogs – but maybe you’d like that, huh?” He glanced at the heap of Ciri’s clothes on the floor, roughly yanked from her body in a hurry to fuck her. “I doubt you’ll be needing those much, anymore.”

At last, Gil pulled out of her, leaving her to ooze cum over the edge of the bed, her breasts rising and falling in big, gasping breaths. She tried to sit, but she didn’t have the strength. No…she had to lie there, panting and recovering her energy, dreading the vile treatment that she would receive from now on… She coughed and said, “You were too rough…”

Gil snorted and ran a hand through her hair, petting her affectionately, mockingly. “You’re a good fuck. You’ll be fine – you’re some kind of Witcher, remember?” he said with a sarcastic eye-roll.

Ciri sat up and, with tremendous effort, rose to her feet. Her clothes were there before her. After a bath and a sleep, maybe she could feel relatively clean again. “Well, I hope you’re happy,” she said stiffly. “Now you need to keep your promise – hide me away from the soldiers.” She stooped to retrieve her clothes.

A heavy foot stomped on them.

Ciri, still in mid-crouch, raised her eyes to Sven. The big Skelliger warrior glared down at her with his single eye. He was naked, his muscular, well-fed and thick-haired body on display – his erect cock twitching before him. As Ciri stared, a fat glob of pre bloated from his tip and fell – splattering in her hair.

“You, too?” she asked quietly, breathing shallow breaths. “I thought…I thought only Gil wanted to…” she glanced back at Gil, who sat on the edge of the bed, grinning at her.

“You thought you’d get away with one hard fuck? No: we’re gonna slam you every day until the soldiers leave. You’d better hope they leave soon, because I’m not sure how much your body can take!”

Ciri rubbed her head, dizzy with terror. As Sven grabbed her hair and hauled her toward the wall, she felt faint. Was there nothing she could do?

-

Sven grasped her hips, pounding her from behind as she sobbed. She felt like a doll in the warrior’s grip, her tits bouncing against the air as sweat rolled off her body. Easy ogre-like thrust into her guts made her mouth jolt open, tongue rippling along the cup of her lips in spasms of gasping, crying shock! She tried to wipe her eyes, but then Sven grasped her arms and yanked them out behind her, bending them so much that she croaked and squirmed in agony!

“Thieves need to be punished,” he growled beside her ear. “Back in my clan, we’d cut the hands off of robbers and shoplifters.” He twisted her wrists violently, making her eyes blur with the pain. “So don’t even think of going back to your criminal ways…”

Sven was stronger than Gil, more energetic – and he had a bigger cock. Ciri could feel every bumpy vein grinding along her insides, punching so deep she thought he was crushing her guts with his girth! Ropes of spit flung from her lips and nose, dangling from her face as her makeup ran in streaks!

“St-stop!” she wheezed. “I can’t…hngg…take it…much longer..!”

Gil, still relaxing on the bed, pumped his slimy dick in a fist. “And here I thought you wanted to protect her,” he joked. “At this rate, you’re gonna kill the sloppy whore.”

Sven grunted and pressed Ciri against the wall, vice-tight, squishing her much smaller body between his thrusting mass and the hard surface! “Shut the fuck up,” he told his partner. “I haven’t been able to let loose like this in…ggh…a long time.”

He pushed her hands up against the wall, letting her claw the cold stone as she screeched and took his cock with disjointed, soul-scraping spasms. When she felt the Skelliger’s fire-hot fingers close around her neck and begin to squeeze, she could only grunt, spit, and gurgle pitifully as her air started to constrict, her lungs tightening… The assault on her asshole only sped up, slamming into her as if she was some well-used tavern whore – or worse – instead of the Lion Cub of Cintra! Drool bubbled over her lips as the air drained out of her. She bucked against Sven’s hands – which had the side-effect of jerking her ass hard around his cock. He rumbled happily at the result, and squeezed harder, twisting her head from side to side in search of harsher spasms. Ciri slapped and clawed at his hands, but the warrior held on tight. Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes rolled until they showed only the whites. She wondered, in a far-off way, why she hadn’t fainted yet. It probably had something to do with the thick python of a dick plunging in and out of her guts.

Sven let go with a sluggish groan, hitting his orgasm at long last! He bent over the wheezing, spitting Ciri, gathered her hair between his teeth, and pumped her slow and hard. His cock erupted yellowish semen into her guts, flooding her so she could feel his vile sperm inside her. With each spray, his teeth yanked her hair, and he squeezed her asscheeks until big, red hand-marks appeared on her pale skin.

At some point, he wrenched his dick out of her and sprayed the last ropes onto her thighs – but he didn’t let go with his teeth. Dangling her by her hair, her knees too weak to stand, he heaved deep breaths and paraded the destroyed, cum-oozing slut.

Gil whistled, impressed by the ruination Sven had brought upon Ciri. “Shit,” he said. “It’s like watchin’ a horse go to work. They teach you that in Skellige?”

Sven release Ciri’s hair. She tumbled to the floor in a shivering, panting heap. He started to jerk his semi-limp dick over her. Even flaccid, it was scarily big. “She’d look good on the end of a horse,” he said.

Ciri, barely staying conscious until this point, squeezed her thighs together and groaned as another flood of seed poured from her gaping ass. She tried to reach for her fallen clothes, but then the last dregs of strength left her. She passed out.

-

Ciri lay on the bed, coated in dry jizz and sweat. She breathed thin breaths, trying not to smell the disgusting ooze that had accumulated on her over the past six hours. It was early morning outside the house, but Sven and Gil snoozed beside her, exhausted by their prolonged fuck-session.

Their hands lay sleepily upon her body. Sven’s covered her breasts, while Gil idly groped her pussy as he slept. Their fat dicks sprawled upon her, pulsing, even growing hard occasionally. Ciri was afraid of moving: if she awakened one of the brutes, she had no doubt they’d fuck her until she blacked out again. Sleep wasn’t an option, either: her entire body ached, and the sweat drying on her pale skin made her itch. She could feel the cum inside her womb and belly, the taste of it on her tongue and breath. All she could do was lie there, shivering with disgust, and wait for the sun to rise.

-

Ciri wheezed on her side, watching the cum ooze from her pussy. Gil had fucked her so many times that he’d fallen asleep immediately after pulling out, leaving her to pant and shiver as her cunny stung. She slowly rose from the bed, careful not to wake him, and dizzily walked to the table. A few lumps of bread and meat were scattered on the wood, and her belly was so empty… Sitting hurt, but she perched on a stool and began to eat, trying to regain her energy.

She’d lost count of how many times she had been used and abused over the past few days. Many times, she’d considered escaping, thinking that even the soldiers would be better than this…but she knew that wasn’t true. She’d be walking out of the frying pan and into the fire – a future full of dogs and horses.

The door swung open, and Ciri flinched on instinct. Sven was sweating, a brace of rabbits dangling from his hook. He tossed them onto the table – and then threw a scrap of paper down in front of Ciri. She peered at it curiously until Sven growled, stooped over, and flattened it out. “Read.”

She wet her lips and lowered her eyes to the text. “A thousand-crown bounty, issued by the army, for the extermination of–hey!” She gasped as Sven began to kiss her neck. His big, burly hands lifted her into a standing position, and suddenly his cock was pressing against her asshole.

“Read as I fuck you,” he said, before sliding his fat warrior-dick into her! She squeaked, bending over the table, but read aloud in a shaky voice, even as he started to thrust:

“F-For the extermination o-of…nngh…a ghoul infesting the f-forests near…ahn!...near Frischlow.” She squinted at the bounty notice. “A ghoul? M-Must mean an alghoul–”

“How hard did Gil use your pussy?” asked Sven, reaching down to play with her cunt lips. “I can’t believe your backside’s so tight after so many fucks…”

Ciri hunched over over the table, huffing and puffing now. “Ghn…hhn…hah..! This should…pay off my debt, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. We need the money.” Sven slapped her round ass and laughed as it bounced. “Fuck. I’ll miss this. So what’s the plan, hunter slut?”

“We just…hhn…need to set a trap.” Ciri was distracted by the clapping of her own tits. She winced, grasping the table edge. “Fffhuuhn..! No…effort or danger, that way…”

“Fine. We’ll go tomorrow. Until then, though, we’ll be having lots of fun with you…”

-

As darkness fell once again across the swamps of Velen (not that it made much difference: the swamps were always dark), they sneaked out of the house and mounted the shaggy old horses in the stable. Ciri hunched under a shawl, riding in front of Sven – who managed to grope and fondle her even while operating the reins and stirrups. His chest heaving against her shoulders with every breath, he was obviously getting aroused as the bouncing motion of his saddle caused his crotch to grind against Ciri’s asscheeks.

They descended a forest path between two mountains, far from the army’s view. As other sounds faded, Ciri became more aware of Sven’s broadsword rattling in its scabbard hanging from the saddlebags. She wasn’t used to such a huge weapon, but hopefully she wouldn’t need to use it. She’d set the trap, bind the alghoul, and let Sven cleave it apart. A truly trapped monster, no matter what it was, could be slain by any peasant with a big enough blade.

“Hey,” Sven growled beside Ciri’s ear, squeezing his biceps around her. “How about a quick fuck before we do this?”

Ciri clenched her teeth. “Stop the horse.”

Curious, perhaps thinking she was about to pleasure them willingly, Sven tugged on the reins. His horse slowed to a halt. Ciri dismounted, staring at the black walls of the treeline all around. Something felt…wrong, here. Her senses weren’t enhanced like Geralt’s, but they were trained to a fine conditioning, and when she sniffed the air, a chill went up her spine…

Sven grasped her hips. His erect bulge mashed against her leather-clad asscheeks, and he chuckled as Gil dismounted his own horse. “She wants us.”

“Shh!” Ciri said, marching toward the treeline. She crouched before a log and ran two fingers along the bark, still sniffing. “Something’s been through here… Ah!” She saw it, a dark spot among the roots and undergrowth. “Ghoul faeces – but no corpses nearby. We must be near their lair.”

As she rose, a violent hand slapped her ass! She yelped and almost pitched forwards in shock, shivering.

“H-Hey! Please…just let me do my work, okay? Just this once…”

“Think about us,” said Gil. “This might be the last chance we get to fuck you.”

“It’s dangerous here. The smell of sweat would attract more than just ghouls.” Once again, she drew away. It was at that moment she saw, beyond the trees, a black maw in the mountainside. Without waiting, she marched toward it. “Grab your weapons.”

There was a rushed unsheathing of blades behind her. She strode toward the entrance, silent despite the fallen leaves and brittle twigs lying on the ground, and crouched behind a thick log. Moments later, Sven was beside her. She snatched a smaller dagger off of him and skulked toward the cave, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. As she approached, however, the sense of danger wore off. She peered into the hole, but nothing moved inside, and there was no stink of rotting meat usually associated with necrophages.

She stepped inside. “This isn’t the lair,” she said at last, and turned to leave–

Sven and Gil blocked the entrance.

“We’re sleepy,” said Sven. “We should set up camp here, don’t you think?”

Ciri glowered at them. She still had the dagger in her hand, but Sven had his giant sword, and Gil clutched a heavy sickle. “Don’t you understand how dangerous this is? We’re close to the monster; we should keep moving!”

Gil yawned. “It’s getting dark. We should rest before we take on the beast.”

Ciri shook with anger. “You just want to fuck me. You’re thinking with your dicks, you–!” She sighed as the big brutes started to grope their packages, grinning viciously.

-

“Ghhk! Glk, glk, glk!” Ciri choked on Sven’s dick pounding in and out of her throat. Her limbs dangled, swaying as the two men hammered her front and back. They held her by the waist and shoulders, suspending her above the ground in a deep, hammering spitroast! Her clothes town to shreds, her sweat glistening in the light of the campfire (just outside the cave mouth), she looked more like a fucktoy than a human being. Her silver hair hung around her face, stained by her runny makeup and her tears. Slimy, cummy drool dangled from her chin, thick ropes swinging as Sven’s balls collided with her chin and bulging neck! “Ghrruuerk!”

“Why don’t you give up this ‘Witcher’ thing?” Gil asked, slapping her asscheeks hard, making sweat fly off them. “Live with us. Be our fucksleeve. We’ll feed you, shelter you… You’re obviously better at your cock-taking job than your monster-finding one.”

Ciri glurked furiously, but she couldn’t do anything. Her green eyes swivelled madly toward the weapons at the edge of the cage, so far out of reach… Gil’s cock in her ass nearly hit her colon when his balls smacked her pussylips, and Sven’s dick penetrated so deep in her gullet that her pounding heartbeat massaged his tip! Much more of this, and she’d pass out – here in this grey cave, far away from her friends and family.

“Shit!” Gil croaked, and pulled out. Her knees hit the ground painfully, but Sven didn’t stop pounding her face until Gil dived for their weapons.

“What is it?”

“Look at the bloody entrance!” Gil said.

At last, Sven wrenched his fat Skelliger cock out of her throat – chooork-puah! – and cursed, pulling up his pants. Ciri looked blurrily toward the entrance…and sighed at what she saw. Three ghouls crouched by the fire, peering at the hunters with glittering eyes.

Correction: three alghouls. That was odd. Alghouls were pack-leaders: they didn’t travel together. Ciri tried to pull her clothes back on, but realised they were too shredded. Almost naked, she rose to her feet.

“Calm down,” she said. “The entrance is blocked, but there’s a breeze coming from deeper in the cave. Another exit.”

“Why don’t we fight ‘em?” Gil demanded, slashing the air with his sickle.

“Aren’t you seeing what I’m seeing? Three alghouls. They’ll tear us apart. I don’t have my sword or my armour.” She wiped the sweat from her brow, already running deeper into the cave’s darkness. Sven and Gil followed – and the alghouls galloped after them, faster and more agile! Ciri spat a curse.

“We’re not gonna make it!” yelled Gil.

Ciri nodded – and drew to a halt. “The walls are narrow here. If we stand and fight, we have a chance!”

Sven grabbed her hair, and she thought, You want to fuck now!? But then he shoved her savagely to the ground and ran past her, Gil in tow. She realised what was happening.

“You bastards!” she roared. Then an alghoul grasped her head and slammed it against the ground, knocking her unconscious.

-

She awoke in a wide, dry cavern – so far from the sun that her eyes couldn’t adjust. A few mushrooms on the wall seemed bioluminescent, but the light they provided wasn’t enough. She felt around. There were items lying on the ground, books and trinkets. Was this where the alghouls left the belongings of their prey, the stuff they couldn’t eat? At last, her hand closed around a torch, and she grunted with satisfaction. One Sign later, and the darkness pulled back around her.

She was completely naked, sweaty, and bruised. Gathered around the cavern edges were bones of the alghouls’ victims. She wondered why she hadn’t been eaten. In the distance, faint crunching sounds and the soft padding of clawed hands made her shiver.

She waved her torch in front of her – and gasped. An alghoul crouched at the other end of the cave, chewing furiously on a severed leg. She recognised it as Sven’s. Gil’s corpse had been completely devoured: his sickle lay by the ghoul’s foot. So nobody knew she was here.

Just as she was thinking of making a grab at the sickle, the alghoul twitched and turned, staring right at her. Ciri backed up against the cave wall, frozen with shock, as the ghoul crawled toward her. Its small eyes glimmered in the torch-light, its face soaked in blood. Cautiously, it sniffed at her legs, then her thighs…before wrapping a clawed hand around her leg and drooping its long, gruesome tongue out. It licked lines of blood along her firm belly and breasts, panting disgusting breaths against her pearly white skin.

Ciri tried to remain motionless. At any moment, the ghoul could strike. She didn’t want to provoke it, not while its fangs were so close to her vital areas… Up-close, the alghoul was bigger than she’d expected: taller than her, anyway, with wiry muscle in its long limbs. When it squeezed her heel and flipped her over onto her front, she barely suppressed a squeal. Her breathing became fast and shocked, whining faintly.

The ghoul made a bubbling noise. Its hands explored her asscheeks, her slim sides… And at last, it mounted her.

Her screams echoed in the caves.


End file.
